


Sehnsucht

by starkiid



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Suicidal Dan Howell, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkiid/pseuds/starkiid
Summary: The pistol laying on its side on the kitchen table should have made Dan uneasy, but instead, it was almost comical.





	1. Chapter 1

The 1997 Force 99 pistol laying on its side on the kitchen table should have made Dan uneasy, but instead, it was almost comical.

 

A half empty coffee from Starbucks and several boxes of cereal. A few receipts. Dan's worn train pass and his battered book bag nearly hanging off the edge of the wood. And a loaded gun, sitting innocently near a chipped mug. Totally normal, right?

 

Normal morning.

 

A normal flat's normal kitchen items on a normal table.

 

Normal, normal, normal, normal.

 

Just a normal day that happened to be his birthday.

 

The day Dan Howell was going to kill himself.

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

He couldn't really find anything to wrap the gifts with, so he had finally succumbed to using newspaper. It didn't really matter, he supposed. His friends knew he wasn't really a formal kind of guy anyway, so a random gift on a random day would be less suspicious if it was poorly wrapped in newspaper.

 

He hadn't actually planned on wrapping the presents at all, but he felt that he should at least attempt to make the day feel a bit more festive. The gifts would give them a happy buzz for a few hours, let them have a good day given what was about to transpire.

 

It felt _right_ somehow. Like it was the least he could do.

 

Making sure the safety pin was loaded in the Force 99, he tucked it carefully in a small box and wrapped that too. He didn't really need to, since his plan was to get the job done here, but it felt safer.

 

Besides, the pistol would be like a present for himself when he unwraps it and shoots himself in the head.

 

It would probably be the nicest present he received that day.

 

In addition to the gun, he had a total of 3 gifts, one for each of his closest friends. He wanted to say goodbye to them properly. He wanted to give them each something to remember him by, to let them know that he really cared, and that he was sorry he couldn't have been better. So they knew it wasn't possible for him to stick around, and that it wasn't their faults.

 

He didn't want them to be too upset.

 

He just needed them to understand that he had _tried,_ but he just couldn't do this anymore.

 

After placing the final piece of tape on the third gift, he gingerly slid all of them into his backpack, and went to his bedroom.

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

When Dan was in high school, he had an obsession of sorts with his history teacher. Not like a crush or anything, though that would have been far easier to explain.

 

Dan's history teacher, Peter Sampson, never rolled up his sleeves like the other male teachers at school, nor did Peter Sampson ever wear the faculty polo shirt on “casual” Fridays. Even in warmer months he kept his arms covered, and Dan had always wondered why.

 

He had thought about it constantly.

 

Maybe he had really, really hairy arms. Or bad tattoos. Or he had been a heroine addict and had hundreds of needle-track marks. Dan had thought of everything.

 

But he suspected (hoped?) the truth was a darker one than that- like Mr. Sampson had tried to kill himself once, and horrible razor-blade tracks scarred his skin.

 

Maybe.

 

It was hard to convince himself that his teacher had tried to commit suicide, because he had seemed so together, so official. Probably one of the more admirable adults Dan had known at the time.

 

Sometimes Dan had hoped that Mr. Sampson had felt empty and hopeless enough to slash his wrists _._ If he had felt that horrible, and then survived to be such a fantastic person, then maybe there was hope for Dan.

 

He was pretty sure no one else had noticed the constantly clothed forearms, or if they had, no one ever said anything about it in class. He never heard anything in the hallways.

 

It made Dan wonder if he was the only one who really noticed, and if so, what did that say about him? Did that make him weird? Or just observant?

 

So many times Dan had thought about asking why he never rolled up his sleeves, but he didn't for some reason.

 

Deep down, Dan knew he was just worried Mr. Sampson will laugh in his face if he asked. Call him a freak. A pervert for thinking about it so much.

 

That would have killed him.

 

It really would have.

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

He had plain brown hair that liked to curl at the edges, and matching brown eyes that didn't light up anymore. His features are nothing special, and his lanky body had always made him feel awkward.

 

It really pisses his roommate off that Dan only wore the same three tops everyday, though they have enough money to buy good clothes. A black hoodie, a gray thermal, or a silly sweatshirt with horns on the hood. Always long sleeves.

 

Today he had on his black hoodie and a pair of blue skinny jeans. He was inconspicuous, boring. No one would look at him twice when he was outside, and that was the goal.

 

Stepping out of his bedroom, he closed the door softly and made his way back to the kitchen, where the gifts were waiting.

 

He couldn't really wrap Phil's good-bye present, and he feels bad about this. Instead, he places it inside a fancy, gold-rimmed envelope that they had gotten for Christmas cards and sets it on the counter.

 

Grabbing a pencil and flipping a receipt for crisps over, he scrawled a hasty note. He knew Phil wouldn't be back before he got home and did the deed anyway, Dan just didn't want to write it later.

 

_"phil_

_im sorry for everything_

_take this and let the fans know, when youre ready_

_thanks for trying_

_i know you really did your best, but these things happen_

_dan"_

 

Phil was away for the week. His parents had organized a family reunion up North, and he had left for it yesterday afternoon.

 

He had begged Dan to join him; he was basically a part of the family, but Dan had politely refused. He had told his friend that some time apart would be refreshing for the both of them, seeing as how they were near each other 24/7. The black-haired man had eventually agreed. The pair filmed a couple of gaming videos in advance, and then Phil had packed his things and left.

 

Phil hadn't texted him since he departed.

 

Dan figured it's better that way.

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

Dan stared in the mirror next to the front door of their apartment. A different person than who used to stare back at him is there. He looks thinner. Dan can see his cheekbones sticking out where his brown curtain tucks behind his ear. Deep purple shadows trace along underneath his eyes, an accessory of three weeks of insomnia.

 

“I'm going to kill you later today.” Dan says to that guy in the mirror, and he just smiled back at him, like he couldn't wait.

 

“Promise?” He hears someone say, which disturbs him, because his lips didn't move. The hair on the back of his neck prickles.

 

Who said that?

 

There is a voice inside the glass.

 

Before he could form a coherent thought, his fist collided with the mirror, shrill fear causing his head to ache. He didn't want that mirror to ever talk to him again.

 

Millions of shards rained down to the floor and then a million little Dan's look up at him, each complete with one bloody fist.

 

With ragged breath he cleaned off his knuckles as quickly as he could and stumbled out the door, leaving the broken glass glittering on the tile.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan had been sad for a long time.

Dan had been sad for a long time.

 

Most of his teenage years resided in a blurry tangle in his brain, memories that he couldn't always distinguish between dreams and reality.

 

He could recall the first time he considered suicide as an option, one of the only truly vivid instances of his past.

 

It was February of his sophomore year in high school, and he had been convinced to go on a walk with one of his friends.

 

This wasn't _that_ unusual of an occurrence, though his outings as of late had been cut down to the bear minimum.

 

They had walked down to the river that cut a jagged line through their town, and stopped by the rusting bridge to rest for a few minutes.

 

With wind whipping through their hair and the sound of cars passing close by, Dan's friend had said something that had made his entire world shift.

 

“Did you ever hear about that lad who pitched himself off the bridge?”

 

“N-no,” he coughed, wide eyes moving from the churning water to his friend's face.

 

“Yeah, he was in my dad's class. Just jumped right over the rail. Crazy right?”

 

The realization had been overwhelming. Whether it was the idea that someone could commit such an act or the disbelief that he hadn't thought of it sooner, he wasn't sure.

 

_I could just kill myself._

 

He had shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him so he could blame it on the weather.

 

“Yeah, crazy.”

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

It was a mild day.

 

The sun was masked by a sheet of clouds, and the streets were bathed in a cool white light.

 

Wind gently tugged at Dan's hair as he walked, but it was a pleasant temperature and he didn't mind. It was actually refreshing, and did a bit to calm his nerves.

 

His pace quickened as the voice from the mirror echoed in his head, making his skin crawl.

 

“ _Promise?”_

 

Dan knew he was crazy, but hearing voices was definitely a bad sign. It was clearly time to throw in the towel before he lost any more sanity.

 

Barely dodging an older woman who didn't seem to be watching where she was walking, Dan wondered vaguely what Phil was up to, and why he hadn't called.

 

Perhaps he was angry with Dan, for refusing to join him on his trip to see his family.

 

Dan figured this could be true, though Phil had always had a difficult time going for days without talking to him, no matter how mad he pretended he was. Their arguments were generally mild, and more joking than they were venomous.

 

But the older man had seemed genuinely upset that Dan didn't want to travel with him, at least at first. They had talked it over for a while, and Dan had thought that they were on good terms when Phil had walked out the door.

 

Maybe not.

 

“Daniel!”

 

A loud, cheery voice shook him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Louise walking towards him with a huge smile on her face.

 

“Hi, Louise!”

 

“Oh, happy birthday Dan! I haven't seen you in ages!” The brunette was enveloped in a warm hug, and couldn't help but grin back at the bubbly woman.

 

“It has been a long time,” he laughed, pulling away. With his bad hand, he moved a piece of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, realizing too late that that had been a mistake. Louise's shocked expression was already prominent as he attempted to hide the damage.

 

“Dan, what happened to your hand?” She gasped, grabbing at his sleeve to try and get another look.

 

“Oh, it's nothing,” he laughed, flashing his red knuckles again before stowing them away in his pocket. “You know me, Louise. It would have been abnormal for me to get here without tripping and injuring myself.”

 

She snorted at this, apparently satisfied with his answer as she launched into her own story.

 

“I am just the same way! I nearly fell on my ass getting off the tube this morning.”

 

Louise continued to babble on as they walked, and Dan internally sighed in relief that the issue had been dropped so easily. He knew that there was no way he could possibly explain what had just happened in his flat, because he wasn't so sure himself.

 

The pair slipped into a coffee shop near by and sat, sipping their drinks and catching up. Dan didn't speak as much as he usually would, but that was fine, seeing as how Louise could keep a conversation going for hours on her own.

 

She spoke about the projects she was working on, how Darcy was getting along, and why she was in London for the day.

 

Dan listened politely, laughed when needed, and mentioned life in the apartment. He did everything he was supposed to do, everything he constantly practiced, and didn't give away any hint about what he planned for later that day.

 

He was fine.

 

His movements were calculated, but casual.

 

He was a robot, moving through the programmed motions.

 

And Louise had no idea.

 

Dan preferred it that way.

 

✖ ✕ ✖

 

When it was time to go their separate ways, Louise was still teary eyed over the gift Dan had given her inside the cafe.

 

A small photo album with a pink, glittery cover, filled with pictures of their misadventures. She had nearly died when she had reached the photographs of “the chair incident,” exclaiming that those images should be banished forever as she struggled to contain her laughter.

 

“I can't believe you got me a present on _your_ birthday, Dan, honestly!” She sniffed, pulling him into another hug. Her gaze flashed towards his hand for a second but she didn't bring it up, instead wiping away a rogue tear.

 

“It's nothing, really. I don't see you often and I thought it would be nice,” he laughed.

 

“It _is_ nice! It's so nice!” She gave him a huge smile, but there was a flash of something in her eye that instantly made Dan uncomfortable.

 

Concern?

 

No. It couldn't be.

 

“Dan,” she started, and his heart rate spiked. “If you ever need anything, make sure you give me a ring. You know that I will always make time for a chat!”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“I don't mean to darken the mood, it's just- You seem a bit down.” Her voice lowered slightly, “And Phil has expressed some... unease, about you lately. I just want you to know that we're here for you.”

 

She reached out a hand to touch his arm, and Dan took an involuntary step back.

 

“I'm fine, really! It's just been a really busy time for us, you know?”

 

His words slipped out too fast, she was onto him. He needed to get out of there before he made it worse.

 

“I'm tired, Louise, that's all.”

 

“I totally understand!” She chided, but her eyes still held that gleam. “Well, I suppose I've got a train to catch. I'll see you soon, Dan, and don't forget to give me a call if you need!”

 

“See you around, Louise.”

 

Dan prayed that his steps didn't seem too fast as he whipped around and made his way back up town.

 

His heart was pulsing almost painfully, but he attempted to appear normal as he walked.

 

Phil was on to him, and now Louise was too.

 

_I have to get this done._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really sorry for the horribly late posting of chapter two, i just graduated and ive been pretty preoccupied! should i turn this into a phan thing, or just leave it neutral? let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day couldn’t have worked out perfectly. This was Dan’s life, after all.

The day couldn’t have worked out perfectly. This was Dan’s life, after all.

 

After sitting alone at a park for nearly half an hour, browsing through his phone, Dan received a text from an extremely apologetic PJ that he wouldn’t be able to make it to London that day.

 

**PJ: I got contacted by this production company that I’ve been trying to work with for months, and they wanted to meet with me right away. Really horrible timing on their part, eh?**

 

Dan stared at the message, slightly disappointed.

 

**Dan: no worries pj, sounds like a great opportunity! i hope everything works out**

 

He really was happy for his friend, that he was able to pursue something he was so passionate about and have people notice, important people. He was just sorry that he couldn’t see the man again before tonight.

 

Though considering how poorly his morning with Louise had ended, maybe it wasn’t so bad anyway.

 

Dan would just have to mail him the gift.

 

 **X** X **X**

 

His impromptu trip to the post office proved to be fairly uneventful, and Dan had even narrowly dodged being seen by a girl wearing their merchandise.

 

It sometimes amazed him that simply existing near his fans could create so much happiness and excitement, that simply walking out on stage could make a crowd of hundreds go wild.

 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, he just didn’t get it.

 

And today he really wasn’t willing to accept the attention. Some teenage girl would know she was the last person to take a photo with him before he killed himself and that seemed like a cruel position to put her in.

 

As he returned to his flat, he stepped over the red shards of glass that littered the floor and made his way to his room.

 

 **X** X **X**

 

Dan turned the camera on, and leaned back in his chair.

 

He was silent as the red light blinked at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

 

“Hello, everyone,” he began, his voice controlled but uncharacteristically soft.

 

“I’m not exactly sure how to make this video, which sounds unbelievably cliche, but believe me when I say that it has been a long time coming.”

 

He couldn’t look at the camera. His eyes stared down at his lap as he struggled to piece together the right sentences. Speaking had never been this hard before.

 

“I have always been floored by your support. I, I definitely don't deserve it most of the time.”

 

“You have all been there for P-Phil and I through a lot, and have always been fairly understanding of our lives and our limitations.”

 

Deep breath.

 

“That is why I hope that you’ll understand that I, um, I need to leave. Youtube, I mean. And I know that is going to come as a massive shock. To everyone.”

 

“I won’t be coming back. My time here is, it’s done.” He grimaced involuntarily, and ran a pale hand through his hair.

 

“These years have truly been the best years of my life, but the sad reality is that everything must come to an end eventually. I just want to end it in a good place.”

 

As the silence stretched on, he realized that was it, then. That was all he had wanted to really say in the video, but as he reached up to turn off the camera, another thought presents itself in his brain.

 

“Tell your friends that you love them,” he blurts. “Tell your family. Tell your dog, your neighbor, everyone. Life is too short and has too many goodbyes. Say hello for a change, and who knows, maybe you’ll find a few million friends along the way.”

 

With a sad smile, he finally looked into the lens.

 

“Goodbye, Internet.”

 

The red light blinked off.

 

 **X** X **X**

 

With nothing to edit, he immediately began uploading the video to his channel, and went to the kitchen.

 

The package with the pistol sat where he’d left it on the table. Tucking it under his arm, he made his way back to his bedroom and closed the door softly.

 

He took his time removing the tape, the process prolonged by the harsh tremble in his fingers.

 

Eventually he was able to slide the box from the wrapper and hold it in his lap. He didn’t remember sitting on the floor.

 

He glanced up towards his computer screen, and noted that his last video had been posted. As if on cue, his phone started to blow up with messages.

 

He didn’t look at any of the names on his display, instead opting to shut the device off. As soon as the screen went black he tossed the phone off to the side, and focused down at the small weapon that he held loosely in his left hand.

 

It was quite heavy, and despite the circumstances, it sent a small spike of fear through his gut.

 

_Promise?_

 

The barrel was smooth and cold under his chin, a welcoming sensation as he realized that his skin was flushed with heat.

 

Inhale.

 

He clicked off the safety.

 

Exhale.

 

Could he hear shouting?

 

Inhale. 

 

The door to his room slammed open in the corner of his eye and a frail voice pierced the deafening silence that followed.

 

“Dan?”

 

It was as though time had frozen.

 

Finger paused, heart stopped, mind blanked.

 

Dan ceased to function, but only for a second.

 

Then he was laughing.

 

He was laughing harder than he ever had before.

 

He doubled over on the floor, his breathing coming in short gasps as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

 

Through the fit, he vaguely felt hands touching him, grabbing at his shoulders, and heard a muffled voice.

 

The gun was removed from his hands and arms enveloped him, but he couldn’t stop laughing to fully access the situation.

 

The arms were attached to a body that smelled familiar and the panicked voice continued to quietly speak to him but everything was incomprehensible as Dan laughed.

 

“I can’t-” He gasped, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t even d-die right!”

 

The embrace tightened at his words.

 

After several minutes of uncontrollable hysteria, Dan slumped his face onto the person’s shoulder, his eyes useless as water clogged his lashes.

 

Time stretched on and Dan slowly regained control.

 

A hand was in his hair, holding his shaking frame closer, while another hand retained a vice grip around his back. Dan could feel a heartbeat that wasn’t his own, one that was beating a million times a second.

 

They sat like this for a few more moments, until a hesitant voice spoke up.

 

“Dan.”

 

“Why are you here?” The brunette asked, any trace of emotion dispersing from his voice. He was drained.

 

“L-Louise rung me up earlier. Said you were acting strange. Then you posted that video and, wouldn’t answer your phone. I-”

 

The grip tightened, impossibly.

 

“I figured the worst.”

 

Dan absorbed this information with disinterest, his face stilled pressed into Phil’s shoulder.

 

“I can't possibly understand how you're feeling right now, but we’re going to get through this, Dan.” Phil pulled away, holding Dan’s shoulders so he could look him in the eyes.

 

The older man’s face was tinged with fear, but a stronger emotion burned beneath the surface.

 

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOSH, I started this story before I graduated and now I'm moving into college next week. I can't believe that! I'm really sorry about the absence. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I'd ever finish this.
> 
> Anyway, this is pretty much it! I have an epilogue coming and then my first ever fanfiction will be complete. Thank you to everyone that has read this far!

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fanfiction i have ever published, so i hope it is not super terrible.  
> pls be kind to me, thanks


End file.
